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Showing posts from February, 2011

Parenting: March Issue

Here we are, with another issue of Parenting in its new, weird design. Something new from last issue is the new “Modern Parent Handbook,” a series of five or so small sidebars that appear throughout the magazine. Last issue, though a “Modern Parent Handbook” was promised on the cover, it referred only to a few articles on “useful” topics. This month, there were dedicated sidebars all on the subject of Etiquette. Note that there’s nothing about them in the table of contents. You have to read the issue with an eagle eye to find them—and even then you might not. I missed some, and I was reading thoroughly to find material for my Commentary. Come on, designers. Take a page from the overzealous copyeditor’s handbook and take your job too seriously. Needless to say, my Commentary will exclusively focus on “Modern Parent Handbook: Etiquette.” Because if you’re going to make me search for the tips, they had better be worth my while—and, of course, they were not. Here, a selection of my top tip

Paris, Montreal, Pittsburgh, Connellsville

Several months ago, buoyed by my successful weaning of Lucia and our return to NYC, Andrew and I decided we’d go to Paris for a long weekend and leave Lucia with our mothers, who expressed eagerness to spend a few days with the baby in Brooklyn. As we talked more about it, however, we both felt a bit uneasy about being so far away; so we revised our getaway plan and set our sights on Montreal. We bought a guidebook, found frequent flier tickets, and began planning our trip. Then Andrew’s dad had surgery and my dad broke his foot, which meant the grandmas were no longer available. We then decided to come to Connellsville for President’s Day weekend—and we planned to escape overnight to a nice hotel in Pittsburgh and at least have one night away. Then Lucia threw up on the flight from Laguardia to Pittsburgh (Andrew caught the vomit in his hands! He’s passed some sort of parenthood trial!), and the next day she had a fever of 103, and then her two hinted-at molars came through in force,

Letter to Lucia: 16 Months

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Dear Little One, Happy sixteen-month birthday, little toddler. Every day brings something new right now, and it’s almost hard to keep up with all the changes. Some things are easy to record: you love apples, you’re getting two molars, you love your noise-making toy phone, you walk with authority. Others are harder. Words, for example—you repeat like a little parrot, often very precisely, but what to count as new words? Only those you offer on your own, I think, in the right situation or in reference to the right object. Your new ones are socks , shoes , and more . You are still the cutest baby ever. But you are also becoming a bit of a wild card on some days, spurred—I hope—by teething. Some days nothing pleases you, or you become fixated on something forbidden—a wine cork, a pencil, Andrew’s computer—and cannot be distracted, becoming more and more angry. But you are also very often giggly and squealing—as we look at each other over and under the coffee table, which thrills you; as I

Rough Day

Friday was one of the toughest mothering days I’ve had yet. But let me back up. Tuesday night, Lucia threw up for the first time. Three times. Twice in her crib, once all over me. Poor baby. We had several hours of crib-sheet-changing and cleaning up and soothing, and then she went back to sleep and woke up none the worse for wear. We’re not sure what brought it on, but she has been completely fine since then. But whew. That was an experience. The first of many such experiences, I’m sure. Thursday night, I found myself up all night with a stomach thing. Not a wink of sleep. And in the morning, I felt like I might not be able to get out of bed; alas, Lucia chirped her I’m-awake signal, and my day began. I wasn’t sick anymore—but completely exhausted and weak and dehydrated from the night before, shaky and light-headed. Andrew had some fires to put out at work and couldn’t stay home. This was a tough day. All I wanted to do was lie down. Thankfully, Lucia had a good day—lots of happy pla

On the Stoop in Slippers

Last week, I left the house without shoes. I had on my slippers, and I made it all the way to the front stoop—with three locked doors behind me—before I realized something was wrong. A friend today told me she once walked half a block without any shoes at all. She has two kids, and I have no doubt I will one day get to that point as well. Such is my mind these days. It’s hard to remember that I was once among the world’s most organized people. I’ve always made reminder notes, but more because it was just a way to stay organized; now, if I don’t write something down, it’s out of my head in two seconds. I’ve been late with our credit card payment three times in six months (fortunately, they’re forgiving—so far). I’ve lost an entire envelope of tax receipts from the first half of 2010 (surely put “somewhere safe” for the move, and also, surely, never to be seen again). I’ve lost 30,000 Dividend Miles from USAirways because I didn’t write a reminder to redeem some miles before their expira